I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m a US postal worker, and my mail truck was just ambushed by a band of backwoods mail-hating survivalists.

Today is a good day.  I got invited to jam with a local band this afternoon.  I didn’t want to go, but my reason sucked, so I went anyway.  I was pretty anxious on the way and for the first few minutes.  Then I asked if I can play too.  They asked me what I play, and I said I’d love anything with sticks or strings.

When anxiety turns into excitement like that, it’s a weird feeling.  It almost feels impossible to contain.  Everything in me demanded I jump up and down or I would burst into a gazillion broken pieces.  I hopped a few times to prevent it, then stopped and hoped nobody noticed.  The man who plays lead guitar (saw and) said he hoped my enthusiasm was contagious.  (I decided I love him.)

I went for the bass because nobody else did.  I told them I’ve only been playing it for a short time, so don’t expect any solos.  They all laughed, and I had another one of those moments where I wonder if they know I mean literally, then agonize over whether to ask.  I didn’t ask.  (Thank you, Stevie Nicks, for being the one person on this planet who finally managed to convince me to always think before speaking, and take my time.)

Tangent:  It took a long time for me to fully concede it’s sometimes better to say nothing, (even if it’s incredibly hilarious.)   It’s a semi-painful concession.  Part of me would rather live in a world where anything is okay to say, so long as it’s wicked funny.  Then I remember there’s absolutely no way that wouldn’t end in (rivers of) tears (for me.)  Damn.  I guess Stevie Nicks got me to (finally) grow up.  Um…  Ow.  😂😂😂😂😂

I had so much fun playing my face still hurts from smiling.  M. complimented me and seemed surprised how well I hung in there.  Then I ruined it by telling him it’s because I practice with the same songs, and therefore suggested them (Jackson 5.)   Jermaine Jackson is the bar I set for my bass playing endeavor.  (If you knew how many notes I currently have to drop to stay in time with the song, you’d be laughing with me.)  It still sounds pretty good, though.  I’m a rhythm bass player.  Heh.

I brought my violin, but as expected, they just looked at it, then looked at me, then looked away.  Did everyone in South Dakota get together and decide on this reaction?  I bet there was cake.  😒  I’m probably still a little bit over excited.  It’s hard to calm down after having a great time.  M. wants to go sit in the hot tub.  It would probably help, but it just seems so unsanitary.  Maybe I’ll just put my legs in.  Apparently, my germaphobia ends with my knees.  💜

You cannot buy half a can of soda

I went downtown to the vigil for Heather Heyer.  I’ll remember her forever.  I didn’t stay long.  The Depression Monster is thrilled I’m no longer taking Prozac and is just waiting for an opportunity to pounce.  I’m going to disappoint him.  I can feel sad without sliding into depression.  It’s been an odd day.  I did a freestyle rap about racism earlier, (and it astonished me.)  Mostly because I don’t rap.  Ever.  It was good, too!  The rhymes kept flowing out of me!

I just kept saying whatever came to mind, and hearing it at the same time, and thinking, “Yes! These are the words!”  I started getting louder (Me! Being loud!) and could feel the knot in my gut unwind a bit with every rhyme.  S. was sitting there watching me, looking stunned.  I was so excited, (and so many other feelings at the same time.)  Then I laughed really hard because The Muse is back.  Huzzah!

I’m deliberately not writing down the lyrics because obviously, they’re for someone else, (a rapper, duh.)  I’m just thrilled they passed through me on their way.  It. Was. So. Awesome.  (I don’t even listen to rap!)  I’ve gotten bits of songs in the past, but never this strongly.  If you’ve ever observed how experienced musicians can create music spontaneously together in jam sessions, you’ve seen the river of inspiration flowing from The Muse.  Jam sessions make me so happy I could cry.

I’ve received other hints she’s back, and am trying to be wise about it.  Naturally, I want to drop my life and go compose some music until I collapse from exhaustion.  Instead, I redid my schedule to allow a set amount of time each day for creating music.  See Alison adult.  (Takes a victory lap around the playroom office.)  I’m reading The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy.  It was mentioned in another novel.  I’m enjoying it so much I’m off to continue.

P.S. Here’s an update on the quilt in progress.